


on my way home to you

by jondrette



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 04:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11005752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jondrette/pseuds/jondrette
Summary: He looked like a kid again, and Vlad couldn’t believe he was getting married in four days. Marriage? Dmitry? He never thought he’d ever see the two go hand in hand.





	on my way home to you

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from gabrielle aplin’s night bus. based on this prompt: "i was trying to find home, but it was here all along." by tumblr user acciopigfarts. originally posted on my tumblr, christyaltomaire.

Vlad had taken it upon himself to ensure that Dmitry’s last night of freedom would be spent in an alcohol induced haze, surrounded by people he pretended to care about. And as much as he’d like to say he could hold his liquor like the Russian man he was, Dmitry couldn’t. Four drinks in and he was already gone, reduced to a muttering mess hanging over the bar.

While the rest of the stag party moved to the next bar, Vlad slung Dmitry’s arm over his shoulders and supported him all the way back to his apartment. Thank God he’d decided to wear his comfortable shoes.

Walking a drunk Dmitry, who towered over Vlad, had been a relatively easy feat until they made it to the stairs leading up to the apartment. “Oh dear God, I knew I should have left you at the bar..” Vlad muttered to himself while readjusting his grip on Dmitry.

“Shut up, old man,” said Dmitry, who pushed away from Vlad and attempted to climb up the stairs on his own. He got halfway up the first flight before stopping, looking helplessly over his shoulder at Vlad, croaking out a pathetic _help_. He looked like a kid again, and Vlad couldn’t believe he was getting **married** in four days. Marriage? Dmitry? He never thought he’d ever see the two go hand in hand.

 

* * *

 

It took a good ten minutes before the pair made it to the fourth floor. When they finally did, Anya was already standing in the door opening, hair tousled from being woken in the middle of the night.

“Home already?” Although her eyes were glued to Dmitry, who responded with nothing but a tired smile, Vlad knew the question was meant for him.

“Indeed.”

“Fun night?” She asked, sneaking her arm around Dmitry’s waist.

“Oh, very! Your fiancé really can’t hold his liquor, though,” Vlad commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I told you. Well, thanks for bringing him home. Wanna crash on the couch so you don’t have to wake Lily?”

“Nooo! The night is young, dear Anya! Vladimir Popov is going to party until sunrise!” He exclaimed, backing towards the stairs. “Have a good night, lovebirds!”

Then he hurried down and set foot onto the streets of Paris again, already rushing off towards the bar the rest of the stag party had moved to.

 

* * *

 

In the safety of the bedroom, Dmitry pulled off his shirt and jeans before sitting down at the edge of their bed. Running his hands through his hair, he fought off the drowsiness just long enough for Anya to walk in with a glass of water and two aspirins.

“Take one now and save the other one for tomorrow morning. You’re gonna need it,” Anya said, one hand instinctively going to his forehead, carefully playing his his hair while he chugged the water. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Dmitry couldn’t argue with that, so he sat the glass on the nightstand and moved under the covers to seek warmth. Even in his drunken state, the need to be close to Anya was present, and so his arms instantly reached out for her the moment she laid down. Pulling her close, he hid his face in the crook of her neck and sighed.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he mumbled quietly into her neck before pressing a sleepy kiss against the skin right below her jawline. Outside the comfort of their cozy apartment, Vlad and his friends hopped from bar to bar, but Dmitry was happy to be here. Happy to be _home_ , in the arms of the only woman he’d ever loved. All he got in response from Anya was a content hum, and the continued motion of her fingers sketching figures on his bare back. The motion, mixed with the steady thump of her heart, lulled Dmitry into a deep sleep.

The next morning he woke with a stiff neck and a headache unlike any other, but at least he was home.


End file.
